Ilyana
by The Blood Wolf
Summary: The mind of a man, a simple man, but a man non the less as he faces the crimes and hate of the world around him. POV.


**I do not own any of George R.R. Martins book, but It would be cool if I did**

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The world is shit. That is most certainly the case. Its been shit the moment my grandfathers were born, its shit now and it will continue to be like that to its end. It has always been this way and it always will be. Well at least that is what the o so Great and Holy high-born tell us 'small-folk'. You were born to work for us, live for us, breath for us, eat for us, breed for us and, most likely, go to die in a war for us. Worst thing is, why have a war. By the Seven if that other high up cunt insulted you you mite as well just hit him and be done with it . But noooooo. You have to get it up in your ass and be a cunt. That's away to solve your problems, you just lay back and let other people, who isn't involved in this fight go and fight for you against other who are just like us.

Don't get me wrong there is nothing wrong in fighting a battle in the field so it dose not happen near your home. Sure I'll do that, but fighting because some king in Another kingdom said some mean shit about you. Why? Just why. You wont win anything and you will not loose anything except perhaps you loose a couple of the thousands of gold dragons you have in a chest sitting there in a deep dank pit of a cellar inside a chest. You know who looses, me. The small man. The working man. The uncultured, dirty, disgusting small-folk who just does the small work of mining your fucking gold for ya. But no we don't matter. Sure we pay taxes and follow your rules, we bow and say m'lord and m'lady every damn time you walk past us or we are spoken to. And may the Father forgive us if we dare to look you in the eye like a normal human being. Nope if we do that then we might as well slit our own thoughts, may be better mind you for they are cruel cunt this bastards. And it just so happens I'm sitting 3 tables away from one such nobleman.

His nice silks and soft hands give him away. Walking and drinking as though he owns the fuckin' place. Surrounded by shit men that will most likely burn in the Seven hells for all the fucked up shit that they do. They call themselves men of honor but we all know that's all shit. They don't care about the homeless, or the poor or the orphans. They don't care about the law, fuck some of them probably raped a woman while wearing their pretty cloaks. But no one gives a carp because if you do the same thing will happen to you and yours. Fucking pigs. Fucking monsters.

-Tom...Tom...TOM- I suddenly heard right next to my ear. Shit, almost fall out of my seat because of the surprise of it

-WHAT?- I scream back at this prick-What in the name of the fucking Stranger do you want?-

-I've been trying to talk to you for the last couple minutes- he said in his mouse like voice, fucking annoying- what got you thinking? It's that tavern wrench isn' it?-

Here we go again. That old tale of me trying to bed a wench. Just because I once had been to drunk to hold the comment on her beauty and now his idiot thinks that I... wait that's a dum idea, this ass don't think.

-Go fuck your self ya pervert. I ain't no thinking about some wench that has had half of the knights in her bed - I say with such obvious disgust that even He can't miss it- I un' like SOME have at least some standards, right Mark?-

-Ahhhh come on, we both know you want to fuck her- Apparently he cant miss it but just does n' give enough shits- you just don't want to admit it-

-I don't want to fuck her and I wasn't looking at her, I'm looking at him- I nod to the pampered little shit- Eating and drinking as though he even shits better than us.. fucking cunts-

Mark turns around and also looks and the prick. One would think he is a princess with the way he carries himself. So much nice silks and gloves he looks just like you would imagine a sword swallower would, probably is one to. I wonder which one of his men to it, probably the armour shiner. I feel a gentle breeze and a crack as Marks head suddenly spins towards me. Fuckers face is so pale it looks as like he just seen a his old man's cock. But I can hold it in..I can... nope fuck it I cant its just too fucking funny. And just like that I feel as the air comes out of my chest and I just laugh. Probably for the first time today.

-It ain't funny Tom- he snaps at me with all the force of a worm- You know who he is right, names Lorgan, and you probably can guess his family-

Don't I know it, been working for them my entire life. My father and grandfather before me to. Lorgan, fucking name, only important because he is blood to the Overlord himself. The Golden cunts of golden cunts. All the same, all just as cruel and horrible. I just sneer thinking about them. But before I can reply the ground shakes and we hear the sound of something crashing. Must have been something big if I can hear it above the noise In the Tavern. Not that there is any at this point. Everybody is quiet, looking at each other as if they have the answer. Even the princess looks confused. And just as suddenly the door flies open and one of the city guards pants threw it.

-Ironborn...-fucker probably said something else, doesn't matter. That word is enough. That word is the bane and fear of all men ad women in this kingdom. Justly so, it is a nightmare come true. Monsters and beast that call themselves men. Heathen savages more likely. An abomination most us pray the gods rid the world of them entirely. As I hear the shouting and the sound of boot hitting the ground a thought comes in, a name to be precise, just one name, Ilyana. I don't wait for Mark, I don't care. I don't care if he is dying or asking for my help, he is not Ilyana. I don't see were the rest of them go to, and I don't care. All I care about is Ilyana, my little Ilyana. As I run through the streets of the city I just think of her and pray, pray to the Mother, to the Father, to the Stranger even to just go away. And I keep running. I only hear echo's. Just cries and yelling. Can't tell the words that are being spoken, don't care about the words, just Ilyana. I can see the house and the closed door, praise the Seven. I open the door and the world stops.

There she is, my princess. My world. From the moment she cried in my arms to now, my life. She looks so peaceful. Laying there, on the floor. Just looking at me. I don't feel anything, nor hot or cold, I don't feel my limbs nor do I hear the outside world. I don't care, all I care about is one thing. Ilyana.

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It's a curious thing, what a man will do to another. There it no limit to the cruelty nor the kindness. But that doesn't matter. At least not to us. They don't know us and they don't pray to us. So we don't interfere. We just watch and see, for tonight Lannisport burns. Fire feels its treats and death goes rampart. A taste of what is to come. Now and later. And yet, amidst all the chaos a miner smiles and the world burns. For he knows that soon they will know his pain. They will al know and remember. And as death comes back to his home there is only one though, Ilyana.

 **Well first story published. Scared yep but eager to hear your thoughts on it.**


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